Well, he has class in the morning, and also an invite from Nanda Isidor to an event called "Moon Revelry" next week in Ravenwood. Also his Social Bunny post got 53 likes.

He has been saying this in his head quite a lot recently, but:

wha

You know, on Social Bunny when you post things people can add reactions to them—

That's not what he was asking and you damn well know it.

The Moon Revelry is held from the evening to the early morning of the full moon near the Ancestor Face Cliff in Ravenwood's Whispering Glen to celebrate the refreshing of the lunar cycle. There is a bonfire, music, food, and people moonbathe in the nude and go swimming in the river to connect and realign their spiritual energies.

The intuitions he came pre-installed with are reacting to this like it's woo bullshit even though, like, spirits literally factually exist and so does magic and for all he knows this does in fact have material effects on people. Which, again, feels weird.

Also it's an event in which everyone is encouraged to get naked in public so like, obviously he's clicking yes on the invite. It was a full moon on Sunday, though, so it'll be a few days.

Okay, well, he went to bed reasonably early last night which means he has a bit still to get to his daily Have Knowledge Directly Downloaded Into His Brain time. Maybe he'll start writing his next blog post detailing his adventures in mortality and talking about how everyone else isn't a person. In a nicer way than that.

He definitely needs his laptop for that, though, so he goes to grab it while trying to be as careful as he can be not to wake Doyoon up.

Don't worry about it, Doyoon is a really heavy sleeper.

Cool awesome alright time to write. And maybe while writing he can try to work out how he feels about... the nature of his relationship with the people around him, and also the nature of consent.

Sex feels nice. And other Sims have taken steps to get it. They've taken steps to get it from him specifically. And thinking about it soberly, he doesn't really think he has magic persuasion powers to convince people to act in ways contrary to their nature. For one, Doyoon did in fact come onto him first. For two, he didn't... really... do anything... particularly persuasive? This is just the dumb anxiety trying to find some way to make him feel bad because Doyoon insists he's straight. And he has consented very enthusiastically, every time. So, what exactly is Peter worried about, here?

Well, it's something like... whether other people have the ability to "meaningfully" consent. Like... okay, the problem is that his brain is sort of slotting other people in a similar macro category that includes, like, animals and stuff. Except that just makes him feel like a creep and an asshole besides. But like, that's kind of the thing, right, where they don't really "know what's happening" in some cosmically relevant sense and so they can't really agree to it happening. It'd be like... like if someone had propositioned to him while he was in timeskip mode and his timeskip self had accepted it and then when he was back he was like, wait, I didn't actually want this to have happened. Does he feel like his timeskip self has the ability and permission to consent on his behalf?

...okay, unfortunately he is a slut, so, like, it'll take some mental gymnastics to concoct a situation in which he wouldn't be thrilled to be having some surprise sex. Maybe he can put it as, ending up having sex rather than doing something else he should be doing, like... homework? Or something?

But, wait, isn't that a fully general argument against ever doing anything with anyone else? If we're positing that the timeskip versions of people can be made to make decisions their non-timeskip selves wouldn't agree with, sex isn't the only thing that could be an issue, here.

Hm.

Another perspective on this is that it's kind of... infantilizing... to remove people's agency in what happens to them. Except, how much agency do they have in the first place? Except, that's the whole problem, isn't it, is that he doesn't really understand what's happening, or how people work, or the concept of "agency" when everyone else seems like they don't actually have any.

And of course, from the outside, this looks a hell of a lot like he is in fact trying to make decisions for other people regardless of what they say they want. Which isn't—okay, it is in fact less bad to do that to decide to refuse sex because he thinks other people "don't really mean it" than to do that to have sex that he thinks people might in fact not mean, but—it's still condescending as heck and, and forget thinking about the timeskip thing, actually. Imagine that the vague memories he has of his life prior to this week were somewhat less vague and when he woke up on Sunday he had in fact had the whole life he felt like he'd had, including the sex he wasn't there for. Would he have been feeling like he didn't meaningfully consent? Maybe, but only in this same abstract sense he's treating the whole thing right now; he wouldn't be feeling bad. The choices he didn't make still feel like they were his.

Plus, the way his timeskip self acts isn't not consistent with what a summarised version of what he'd be doing were he awake would be. His timeskip self isn't himself, but it's still playing The Peter Tarleton Aesthetic.

Ethics is complicated. Why can't he just suck hot boys off and be done with it?

"Morning."

Well, maybe he can.

"Good morning, Doyoon. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah. ...did you change your hair?"

"Please tell me you're joking."

"I'm joking. We were asleep. Of course you didn't change your hair."

"You know, I think plausibly half of the feeling of surreality of my life lately has to do with the fact that I have you as my roommate."

"But you like me."

"Unfortunately, I do."

"I think you're very fortunate to have met me, actually."

"Honestly, me too. However much of a troll you are, I do appreciate how chill you've been about everything around me. It helps ground me."

"...awww." Okay he's kind of feeling like kissing Peter now, so he'll do that.

"Straight" his ass. Maybe "straight with an exception," though Peter should definitely not read into it. He knows (...was instantiated knowing) that he gets crushes far, far too easily, and he definitely should not get a crush on a boy who claims to be straight and to have been "experimenting". That is a recipe for disaster.

(Peter is so funny, isn't he. Isn't it funny how he thinks he'll manage to not get a crush. Isn't it funny how he thinks he doesn't already have a crush.)

(Ha ha ha.)

"What are you writing?"

"Oh I have a blog about my life and the sense that no one else is self-aware in the hopes that it might reach someone else who is, ideally a whole bunch of them, so that I won't be alone. Although I'm hoping I'll figure out a way to uplift everyone, too, even if for some insane reason I am the only self-aware person in existence."

"Self-awhotsit?"

"Self-aware. It's when you're aware of your own awareness, you can see the inside of your mind and introspect on your own feelings and thoughts and senses. Are you self-aware, Doyoon?"

"Sounds nerdy, so probably not."

"Part of why you're a particularly difficult case, my friend, is that I think you'd say that even if you were wrong."

"That's probably true. I just kinda say things sometimes."

"I've noticed this about you, though I've also noticed a less pronounced form of that about everyone, which feeds into my theory about self-awareness. I'm being slightly facetious, though; I don't think the problem here is exactly that everyone isn't self-aware. Probably."

"Now you're just using difficult words to make me feel bad."

"At least partially true!"

"You're a dick."

"I'm also a pretty face and a tight, hot bod."

"I guess I can't argue with that."

"Anyway do you want a blowjob?"

"Yeah!"

"How about I give you one outside by the pool where everyone can see?"

"What? No!"

"...why not?"

"Anyone could see!"

"That's... what I... Didn't you say you were okay with that?"

"No!"

"We fucked in the hot tub yesterday."

"Yeah."

"In front of Manu."

"Yeah, that was hot."

"...but by the pool isn't?"

"No! Anyone could see!"

"...are you saying that it's different when it's just a risk of getting caught rather than a certainty?"

"Yeah, that." He decides to hop off the bed and spin into his clothes. "I'm annoyed now. Bye."

"Bye..."

Off he goes.

Well now he knows that he doesn't have superpowers of overriding people's consent? Yay?

No, really, genuinely it's good to know, now he has a direct concrete rejection, it's proof of concept that the world and other people aren't completely under his power or anything like that. Doyoon just is in fact a horny guy who was into Peter and he wasn't doing anything he didn't want to do, Peter wasn't personally causing him to act counter to his best judgment. 

That's pretty relieving, actually!

Okay, so, back to his journaling.

Other people have preferences, and express those preferences, and being good at words does not suffice to override them. He feels like that at least gives the idea that they can consent a lot more legitimacy? Again, not just to sex, to anything. If he extrapolates from what he's seen so far, they do actually take actions to achieve their goals, despite his earlier despair about how they didn't have agency. And, really, he should've thought that earlier when one of his brothers mentioned wanting to get married and stuff. Hell, when Doyoon did. They have plans and aspirations and desires.

So what is up with the way they've been behaving? Where does Peter get off on calling them automata and stuff?

...well, even though they have goals and take steps to achieve those they're clearly missing something, some kind of faculty that allows them to remember individual events or even earlier conversation topics. It's, again, kinda like they've been programmed to respond to certain stimuli but don't have their full experience simulated.

Hmm.

The way people behave. The way he behaves, when he's timesliding. The whole thing about skipping space between places, or how knowledge gets downloaded into his brain, or how he can cause some cooking to happen if he's sufficiently distracted even though he's not actively (lol) timesliding, the shortness of the years and their lifespans, the simplicity of it all.

Is he in a simulation of some other, higher-complexity reality? One that matches his weirdly clashing intuitions better? Did he "wake up" somehow?

Except, how? Why would "waking up" entail acquiring intuitions from this more complex reality? Why him?

Also that theory doesn't really explain the cracks between reality he witnessed.

But maybe there's still something to it. Maybe it's just that he's still being partially simulated and there isn't anything there between places so when his simulated brain tries to perceive something that just can't be simulated it gets filled with, what, random noise? Stimuli that his simulated nerves just aren't programmed to process?

Hmm.

Okay, maybe the question should be, what testable predictions does this hypothesis have?

If he's being simulated in a computer then it might, in theory, be possible to segfault it? Find bugs in it? But of course, given that he is in fact living in this simulation, that would be the dumbest fucking idea. If he segfaults his program and it gets shutdown he gets shut down with it.

It might be possible to run some low-level experiments? If the simulation is being run at low fidelity, which is what he's thinking it is, maybe it'll be obvious with an electron microscope or something. Now, of course, if he's special somehow maybe the simulation could increase in fidelity exactly where he's looking, but that's assuming that it even can. Plus, it hasn't particularly tried to become more plausible with the things he has noticed, like, he can still timeslide and he still got a good look at the eldritch beings beyond reality yesterday.

And if the simulation is not being run in a computer, then...

...then what is it being run in? What other kind of substrate is there to run a simulation in?

Hmm.

Peter's class is in ten minutes.

...is it, now. Well, he doesn't give a fuck, does he. He can retake it next term if he needs to, it's fine. He's skipping it, this is more important.

Whatever he says.

Okay, so. One thing that might be possible is that—actually, scratch that, it is most likely that he is being run by someone. Some kind of intelligence. And while they have so far chosen to not interact with him, maybe they don't have direct or easy access to his thoughts? That'd make sense, if the simulation isn't used to simulating thoughts very well.

(Actually, is that evidence against his being in a computer? How would the computer simulate his entire brain? If it can simulate his entire brain, why is it doing that only for him?)

Anyway, if he's being simulated by a person maybe he can take actions that will make him more noticeable to that person, such as, "Hey, if you can hear me, I'm awake, I've been uplifted from whatever simulation I was in, I'm a real person, hi?"

No response seems forthcoming.

Yeah, that was probably too much to hope for.

...hmm.

Maybe talking by itself isn't enough but maybe he can draw the attention of the simulators by being more dramatic? By doing something pretty unusual or different, something other Sims don't seem to do, or at least something that very few Sims seem to do. Maybe the simulators don't pay all that much attention to individual Sims but if he could make himself notable somehow maybe they would. So maybe a first step would be becoming famous, and then...

...

.......................

It is the simulators' own damn fault for instantiating Peter the way he is. Just saying.

He goes to the bathroom, spins in place to put his shoes on and nothing else, then goes to the kitchen to grab some late breakfast.

"Gah! Peter! You're naked!"

"Whoa, Peter, you're naked..."

"Hey, uh, Peter, buddy, you're naked."

"I sure am," he agrees, walking to the fridge to get some milk to have with cereal.

They look at him for a few more seconds then go back to what they'd been doing.

...man. He'd kinda hoped the reaction would last longer than this? Like, it's one thing for it to have been short yesterday in the bathtub but here he is, in the middle of the kitchen, completely naked and sporting a semi, and they just... stopped caring. Just like that.

Maybe this won't be enough to attract the attention of the simulators.

On the other hand this means that he has no reason not to do it and he likes being naked, so.

He sits at the table and... actually, can he cause his mouth to produce mouth sounds that are sufficient to the other people around while distracted the same way he can, like, cook while distracted? If he tries to focus on just eating his cereal and wanting to have a conversation then—

He is now done with his cereal.

...yeah. Probably too much to hope for, there isn't really much of an automatic way to run a conversation that isn't also an automatic way to run him, his hands can totally do things while he's not looking but his words can't.

Anyway, he'll need to figure out some other thing that will draw the attention of the simulators, though this has been, uh, pretty demotivating re. this whole endeavour, all in all. He's not sure there's going to be anything that could be sufficiently attention-grabbing? Not, to be clear, that he isn't going to try, he's still gonna try becoming famous somehow, maybe be a politician (though that sounds miserable) or something, but... if other Sims in general react to weird things with a "oh no! anyway" every time, what's even possible?

But he's probably getting ahead of himself; he hasn't even solved the mortality problem yet. Even if he's no longer feeling the pressure due to being a ghost not being that awful, he still needs to look into all the everything else there is. Plus, he never got around to trying to find the Grim Reaper! He went all the way (lol) to Ravenwood and then got annoyed with the people there and left after experimenting with being a ghost, but he could've probably asked the grimtern about how to find Grim.

Oh well. There'll be other Thinned Festiveils. For now, he's gonna figure out how to become a witch.

"Do you guys know how one becomes a spellcaster?" he asks the people at the table, knowing that they won't mind the interruption.

"No idea."

"I think you need someone else to turn you into one?"

"Like, another spellcaster?"

"Yeah."

"Do you guys know any?"

Headshakes all around.

"...maybe I should just Siimgle that," he thinks aloud.

"Great idea!"

Yeah. Sure. Thanks, Brent.

Siimgle seems to think that he can become a spellcaster by going to the Realm of Magic.

Oh. Well. That seems straightforward.

How does he, uh... get there?

There's a magic portal in Glimmerbrook.

There's a... portal.

Yup! In Glimmerbrook.

Yeah, he... he got that.

Okay. You know what. Sure. He'll go to a place called Glimmerbrook and cross a magic portal to a Realm of Magic, why not.

Just then a lop-eared Sim-sized plush bunny in overalls walks into the dining room.

A what now.

"Oh it's the Flower Bunny!"

The wh—

Time for more sourceless knowledge! Today is Bunny Day because it is the Wednesday of spring (since seasons only last a week, of course, so there is only one Wednesday per spring), and on Bunny Days there are eggs hidden various places and also the Flower Bunny shows up. It is unclear whether the Flower Bunny is the one who hides the eggs but it does carry some.

Also they're not, like, real eggs or anything, they're just... decorative eggs.

Decorative eggs.

Yup! Lotsa colours. Always a surprise.

Ok. Sure.

Anyway moving on, he's going to Glimmerbrook. Taxi, please.

Is he going to call the taxi naked?

...well, uh...

Kinda chilly today.

Yes, fine. He was feeling kind of iffy on the whole thing, anyway. He's clearly got some programming and even though being naked in public is hot and all it still feels pretty wrong to do and like something bad will happen if he does. He can limit his nudity to his frat house, how about.

Here's the taxi!

Cool. Glimmerbrook, please.

Glimmerbrook is a small village by its namesake brook, a cute picturesque place amidst rolling hills and pine trees. By the time Peter comes to, the car is driving down the riverside road past small houses and cottages and slowing down as it approaches a particular bend past which the road U-turns away from the river. The driver stops there and waits for Peter to step out.

...uhh.

"Excuse me, do you know where the portal to the Realm of Magic is?" he asks, when it's not obviously in view.

"Sorry, I don't know."

"Oh. Okay, thanks anyway." Out of the car, then.

They drive away.

Alright, phone to the rescue: where exactly is this portal?

In Glimmerbrook!

Yes but where.

If he looks for pictures of it he'll see a stone archway with mystical symbols engraved on it framing shimmering blue-green-purple light standing atop a circular slab of stone with more arcane etchings in the middle of the river. From this vantage point it looks like there's a waterfall right beyond the portal.

Okay, waterfall means that he should probably follow the river?

There's a dirt path lit by streetlamps that continues along it from where Peter is, and it doesn't take much walking for him to go around a bend that brings the portal to view. To get to the portal he will need to walk to the edge of the river and then skip over a little bit of water towards the stone slab.

...skip over water. As in, river water?

Yup.

As in if he slips and falls he might be dragged towards the alarmingly tall waterfall to fall to his untimely demise amidst the rocks at the bottom?

That's right!

Who. The fuck. Designed this.

But fine, YOLO, worst-case he becomes a ghost.

He successfully reaches the portal!

Yay! He is not dying today!

What's this portal like, then?

It looks like the picture. The shimmering light wavers as if influenced by unfelt wind, and from up close it emits a low, soft hum.

So does he just... step through?

Only one way to find out!

He supposes so. Here goes nothing.

It feels almost like how water felt on his skin when he was a ghost, except for how it doesn't feel like that at all, and what awaits him on the other side is an ordinary if rather large house and extraordinary surroundings.

The sky is purple and pink with streaks of blue, and it's everywhere, because he is clearly no longer standing on firm ground on a planet. From this vantage point he might assume that he's standing atop a very tall plateau but that impression is ruined by something that looks like a small floating rock island in the distance behind him and to his left, not to mention the floating rocks swirling around it. It doesn't take much walking to confirm that he is also on one such island, himself, and if he was scared by the waterfall we've got bad news for him about the existence of a bottom to the particular abyss he'll find if he peers past the edge.

Oh. Okay. He will. Carefully take some steps back, lowering his body close to the ground because his legs are going uncomfortably wobbly in what is probably the least helpful possible response his body could have to the vertigo of an endless void.

But cool. That's cool. Floating islands. Very aesthetic. Dangerous, terrifying, but aesthetic. He'll just sit here for a moment, though, thank you.

No one comes to bother him, although he can see a couple of people flying by on flying broomsticks.

He supposes flying broomsticks were to be expected of witches, really. And are those the only way to get to the other islands? Those do seem to have some buildings on them so presumably people go there.

No, if he follows the cobblestone roads he'll find portals very similar to the one he came through near the edges of his island that probably lead to the island that can be seen beyond them.

Or they might drop him into the void! Who knows. Not him.

Alright, enough gawping at yet more and exciting ways to die, if he was dropped right in front of a mansion presumably it's an important mansion, yes?

Presumably!

The ground floor is dominated by a large, mostly-empty square atrium. There are steps leading down to a depressed center where a slab of stone identical to but much better-maintained than the one under the portal set into the floor, runes glowing brightly. You can look down into that room from the first floor's mezzanine gallery and there are arches leading into other rooms on all three other walls.

...magical dueling room, maybe? Looks like people can spectate on stuff and it does look fancy.

But how about people, are there people?

Not in this room, but he can hear faint murmurs suggesting the other rooms might be occupied.

Alright, then: room to the right.

Another one of those magic circular slabs in the floor, but this one has a large stone cauldron with enormous inset yellow teardrop gems standing on it. A young adult with a respectable beard is standing idly next to it, and there's a strange green-blue rune floating above his head—one of the three largest runes that repeats everywhere, actually. Bookshelves line the wall to the right (being examined by an adult, this one without any runes floating above their head), the wall directly in front of him has stained glass windows looking out, and there are stairs leading up along the wall to his left.

Person with a floating rune above their head! That looks like some video game's quest marker or something, it's probably important.

"Excuse me," he says, walking up to that person.

He turns around and nods to Peter. "Good morning."

"Good morning. I'm Peter, I'm, uh, new here."

"Welcome to the Realm of Magic, Peter. I'm Beckett Delgado, Sage of Mundane Magic."

Something about this guy's face is really turning Peter off but he can't quite put his finger on it. Also, what the hell is "mundane" magic?

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Delgado. What, uh—is there a 101 guide of magic or something like that you could run me through?"

"Hmm, I'll try. Spellcasters generate magical charge, which they can use to cast spells. There are a myriad spells, each with its own effect and cost. Having more charge means you can cast more and more powerful spells, but it also means that they have a higher chance of failure. If you accumulate too much magical charge, that can have very dangerous consequences, up to and including death; having too little of it can also be a problem, though. You can also create magical potions by following a recipe and imbuing it with magical charge."

Okay that sounds really promising, actually.

"What kinds of things can spellcasters do?"

"There are a myriad different spells and potions available to spellcasters."

Right.

"Can you give me a few examples? Give me a few of each power level, maybe?"

"There are spells that can clean or repair things, instantly transport you somewhere else, alter someone else's mood, set things on fire..."

"Okay, more to the point, are there ways to cheat death with spells?"

"There is a spell that can bring a Sim back to life."

"Promising! Is there a spell that can make you just not die in the first place?"

"No."

"Is it possible to develop new spells?"

"Yes."

He's not gonna go down that rabbit hole, actually.

"What are the drawbacks of being a spellcaster?"

"You may accumulate too much magic charge, explode, and die. You may fail a spell too many times and get cursed. Other spellcasters may wish to fight you."

"Wait hold on 'cursed'?"

"Yes."

rrrrrr

"What does 'cursed' mean?"

"It means you are under a magical affliction that may affect your spellcasting or other parts of your life."

"How do you get cursed?"

"Whenever you fail a spell, there is a chance you might be cursed."

"Is there a way to—never mind. How do you remove a curse?"

"There exists a spell that removes curses, as well as a potion."

"—right! Potions! Those! Is there a potion of immortality?"

"Yes."

"How about—"

"—wait, did you say 'yes'?"

"Indeed."

Why didn't he mention that earlier. Peter knows the answer.

"What exactly does it do?"

"It prevents you from dying of old age."

"—but you can still age? Do you just—become an elder but then stay one forever?"

"Unless something else kills you."

"Is there a potion or spell that can keep you young?"

"Yes."

"Is there a potion that can keep you from dying of any other causes than old age?"

"There exists a potion that will promptly resurrect you if you die. It is called the Potion of Prompt Resurrection."

Wow he didn't even need to try any of the other magical things, huh.

"How hard are these potions to brew?"

"These are amongst the most complex potions there are."

Of course. "Is there anything else you think I should know about being a spellcaster?" That's a useless question to ask but who knows, maybe there'll be a programmed-in response.

"I don't know."

"Do you know of any reason I shouldn't want to be a spellcaster?"

"Casting spells can be very dangerous. You might accumulate too much magic charge and die, or you might get cursed."

"Is it possible to stop being a spellcaster, if I want to?"

"Yes."

Peter kind of doesn't want to wait. Is that dumb? That may be dumb. On the other hand: twelve weeks. Can he afford to be slow?

...he can probably afford to be slower. At least consider down sides, etc.

........but he wants to be a wizard SO BAD.

"Does being a spellcaster interact with being a vampire, or a werewolf, or a ghost?" he temporizes.

"I don't understand."

"Like, if I'm a spellcaster vampire, does that cause any problems?"

"I don't understand."

...wait, what? That, why was that confusing?

"Can you explain what you don't understand?"

"Obviously not," he says, starting to become exasperated.

"Can a vampire become a spellcaster?"

"No."

...what.

"Can a spellcaster become a vampire?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't know." Exasperated again.

Okay! That might be a reason to not be a spellcaster! In case being a vampire is, like, super awesome and better!

...but if he can stop being a spellcaster any time........

...wait.

"How hard is it to stop being a spellcaster?"

"You need someone to cast the Rite of Dissolution on you."

"Like a Sage or can anyone do it?"

"I'm tired of talking to you," he says, then he turns around and walks up the stairs.

Why are they like this.

Anyway! That guy had that rune floating above his head but all of the magic circles have three big runes in them so it stands to reason that there might be two other Sages. He is gonna shop for a Sage that he hasn't just irritated to death.

Here's one, another young adult with wavy medium-length dirty blond hair, a heavy wine red coat, and thick steel-toed boots.

...from that description he would not have expected it to work but it actually does work. Also, this person is so attractive it hurts.

"Hello."

"Oh, hello, you're new, welcome. I'm Morgyn Ember, Sage of Creative Magic. And you are?"

"Peter Tarleton, at your service."

"Well are you?" they say with a half-smirk. "I suppose that remains to be seen."

Is the Sage of Creative Magic flirting with him.

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Chill, Tarleton.

"I have some questions about magic, because I think I might want to become a spellcaster. Do you have a minute or ten?"

"Sure, we can chat," they agree amiably, leading the way downstairs into a cosy little study where someone else seems to be experimenting with the cauldron. "Coffee? Tea?"

"Ah, no, thank you."

The Sage walks over to a little counter in a corner to start preparing some tea for themself, then.

"So, I met your colleague, uh, Mr. Delgado? But I think I may have annoyed him."

"Very easily annoyed, that one. And always so stressed out."

"He said he was the Sage of Mundane Magic, and you're the Sage of Creative Magic, is there a third?"

"Yes, Allyson Laurent is the Sage of Destructive Magic."

"...huh. Mundane, Creative, Destructive. What, uh, are they?"

"They are the three schools of magic." They pour the now-hot water from the electric kettle into a mug, put a teabag in it to seep, then take a seat on the little sofa and gesture for Peter to sit, too.

He sits.

"Mundane Magic," they continue, "is magic that changes the world as it is. Creative Magic creates the world as you wish it to be. And Destructive Magic undoes that which should not be. All are important components of magic, and none is complete without the others."

This person is remarkably articulate. Peter shouldn't get his hopes up and yet he is.

"What does it mean to be a Sage of Creative Magic, then?"

"Being a Sage is a sacred duty. We guide new spellcasters and teach them, and it is our duty to keep and pass on the knowledge of the most powerful known spells."

"How does one become a Sage?"

"It is a duty passed down to the worthy. The previous Sage of Creative Magic, Tess Dyer, chose me to be her successor."

Okay he has to ask. "Sage Ember, are you self-aware?"

"Goodness, no! What dreadful business that sounds."

He blinks. "It... does?"

"Yes, yes, I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

"I don't know I kinda like it?"

"Well, I'm certain it works for you," they say, sounding dubious.

What the...

"Are you messing with me?"

"Whatever could have given you that impression?"

"...uh..."

They blow softly on their tea.

"No, seriously, is there a community of self-aware people or people who aren't, like—timesliding and stuff?"

"I don't think I understand what you mean."

"Do you like butterflies?"

"Yes, they're so pretty!"

"I think I annoyed Mr. Delgado earlier today."

"Yes, well, very easy to annoy, that one, don't mind him too much."

"I have some questions to ask about magic, if you have a minute or ten?"

"Certainly! What can I help you with?"

He had to try.

"So, uh, what's special about these schools of magic? Are you only allowed to learn one of them at a time, or?"

"No, nothing like that, you can learn any spells or potions there are to learn."

Hmm.

"How do you learn new spells and potions?"

"You can be taught them, or you can practice on your own and eventually learn them that way."

"...you... learn how to cast spells by 'practicing'?"

"Yes."

"So there isn't, like, a magic school or anything like that."

"No."

"How do you learn magic by practicing?"

"You practice the magic and then you learn it."

"...alright. So, suppose I turned into a spellcaster now. What would I do, would I get a magic wand? A broomstick? Would I know how to do magic already?"

"You don't need a wand to perform magic, but some spellcasters find that it agrees with them."

"Do wands make magic more powerful or something?"

"Of course not."

"So what are they... for?"

"Some spellcasters prefer to use them."

That doesn't answer his questionnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn he's starting to feel like there's just no way for him to get a good understanding of how magic works without becoming a witch himself also he's impatient no you know what uncross that out he's gonna own it he's impatient and he wants magic, damnit.

"I'd like to become a spellcaster. How would I do that?"

"You would need to collect some ambient magic and bring it back to one of the Sages, and then we would use that collected magic to transform you into a spellcaster."

"Would that take time? Or, how long would it take?"

"Not very long. Once you've collected the magic the spell is reasonably quick."

"And is there, like, some kinda screening? A test? Or do you just make anyone who wants to be a spellcaster into one?"

"Anyone can be a spellcaster if they want to be."

"Oh by the way I heard there's a Potion of Immortality and a Potion of Prompt Resurrection. Do you know how to brew those?"

"Yes."

"Could you teach me?"

"Only once you're sufficiently powerful."

"...you can become more powerful? How? What does that mean?"

"As you practice your magic and hone your skills you become able to perform more impressive feats of magic, store more charge, create more complex effects, and so on."

Hm.

"Would you sell a Potion of Immortality and a Potion of Prompt Resurrection?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Could someone else?"

"If they wish, but very few spellcasters are capable of brewing those potions and their ingredients are very rare and hard to acquire."

"I suppose that's fair enough..." He really, really should think harder about this. He should weigh the pros and cons, and spend more time coming up with questions and figuring out how it all works.

He doesn't wanna.

"Can you turn me into a spellcaster? How do I collect ambient magic?"

"I will give you the temporary ability to perceive and interact with it, and then you have to go out and collect it. Get as much of it as you can, until you can't hold any more of it, then come back to me."

Sounds straightforward enough. He might even be done before his afternoon class.

"Alright, I want to do it."

"Then get ready." They stand up, putting their tea down, and start waving their hands around as wisps of magic accumulate around their hands. They do this for a few seconds, then they gesture at Peter and all of the accumulated magic goes into him.

And Peter can suddenly see.

There's magic everywhere, clinging to the walls and the floor and the sofa and to Peter himself, swirling around the Sage and the person experimenting with the cauldron and the cauldron itself, flowing in the air through the walls. It doesn't overlay itself on top of Peter's sight any more than sound does, and he could easily ignore it if he wanted to, but if he looks for it it's there.

Wickedddddd. "So do I just grab it from wherever or...?"

"There will be very little free and useful magic here in the mansion, but if you walk around the Realm you should be able to find much more of it."

"Awesome! I'll be right back, then."

To find magic!

The Sage was right, there's a lot more magic outside, flowing in rivers and currents every which way. They don't have colours, exactly, but to the extent they do, there are three of them, although they merge and flow into each other and the boundary isn't super sharp. And the most impressive bit of it is the enormous swirling mass of it that's holding the islands aloft. Actually, with the ability to see magic, it would not even be correct to say that the islands are floating in the void; it's much more like they are floating in the sea, thick with magic as far as the eye can see.

Coooooooool!

Anyway how does he grab it?

Just like so.

Oh that tickles.

Some of the magic won't budge, though. In fact, most of the magic around seems attached to this or that, and he can pull on some of it but not actually tug it free. He needs to get the bits of magic that are in the air, drifting freely and aimlessly, and not moving with any purpose.

Yeah legit. He'll try to grab enough of that until he can't anymore, like the Sage asked.

It's not obvious what that means, at first, but it starts getting... uncomfortable, after a while.

...uncomfortable how?

Like... buzzing on his skin? Or like his stomach is starting to get unsettled, or he's not comfortable in his body, like he's got too much energy.

Oh he does not like this. He does not like this at all. It's alright and bearable at first but it's starting to get really, really unpleasant.

And it gets worse. Too hot and too cold at the same time like a fever, and too restless like he can't sit still, but his vision is starting to swim and he's getting dizzy, it feels like he's full, too full, like he might go sick if he keeps going—

Ooooooooooooookay he thinks this is enough actually, or he fucking hopes it is because he doesn't think he can take any more.

"IthinkI'mdone," he says to the Sage all at once when he finds them, holding his breath and trying not to hyperventilate because that'll make him even more likely to throw up.

"Oh, you poor thing, here, shhh, it'll be alright," says Morgyn, getting up from where they'd been reading a book and chatting to someone else. They place their hands on Peter's shoulders and then Peter feels fine all at once.

"Oh thank you," God that was horrible. He guesses he's not a spellcaster so holding onto magic is bad? That'd make sense.

"Now just one moment," says the Sage, apparently unbothered by all of the magic they just took in. They start gesticulating in the air again, this time for much longer, and the air starts to crackle and buzz with magic, enough that he can see sparks flying between their fingers. "This will feel bad," they warn, then they grab him by the shoulders again—

OW

It hits him like an oncoming train, like he's being turned inside out and beat to a pulp, like all of his organs and even his cells are being shuffled and rearranged. It hurts, it really, really hurts, it hurts everywhere and it hurts a lot and it keeps hurting. His memories claim that he's had kidney stones before and they claim that those hurt worse, but this still hurts a fuckton. And if that's not enough, he's suddenly really, really tired. If it weren't for Morgyn holding him firmly by the shoulders he might have collapsed, all of the energy sapped from his body, his blood pressure plummeting and the air getting knocked out of his lungs.

After a few seconds he feels more stable, but it still hurts a lot.

God fucking damnit why did neither of the Sages he talked to think to warn him that this was going to fuck him up that bad.

"Is it," deep breath, "meant to hurt this much?"

"Yes. You are no longer a Sim. You are now a Spellcaster. Your body is new."

"What does that mean."

"It means you changed species."

"wha"

"Wait is that why a spellcaster can't be a vampire?"

"Yes."

"God this sucks."

"Who's that?"

"...who's who?"

"'God'."

"I don't know." He's used that word a lot, actually, not that he thinks about it, and he has no idea what it refers to? Or whom?

He hates it here.

Also: fucking ow.

Morgyn grabs a small vial with a blue potion from their coat and a blue glowing crystal with runes etched onto it. "This will invigorate you," they say, giving Peter the potion, "but not for very long. And this," the crystal, "is the Glimmerstone. It will let you come straight to the Realm of Magic from wherever you are and back. It needs recharging after being used, though. Just hold onto it."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks." Rock goes in pocket, potion gets uncorked and chugged.

It doesn't help with the pain at all, but it does make him feel like he can walk again.

"I'd recommend rest and no strenuous exercises for twenty-four hours."

"Oh... okay."

He thinks he's not going to class today, actually.

"You can feel free to use our quarters to rest, if you wish."

"I think I wanna go home."

In fact, he wants to go home so badly he doesn't want to be awake f—

He's back at the frat house.

Bedroom. Carry him to his bedroom.

He's in his bedroom.

Doyoon's there, too, walking in after him. "Peter? You look like shit."

"I feel like shit," he says, flopping onto the bed.

"What happened? Are you ill?"

"I'm a spellcaster."

"Oh wicked! I didn't know!"

"—no I mean I just became one. And becoming a spellcaster apparently hurts like hell." What's 'hell'? There's another word he doesn't know the meaning of.